


Someone to Lean On

by OnstageSport



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, Crutchie is more than just a Soft Boy, Explicit Language, Gen, post-refuge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 00:25:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11680191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnstageSport/pseuds/OnstageSport
Summary: After Crutchie is released from the refuge, he seems...different. No matter how many times he says he's fine, Jack knows better.





	Someone to Lean On

It had taken a few days for anyone to notice that anything was off. The most obvious change was that upon Crutchie’s return from the refuge, his limp had worsened. The other boys just accepted that he had gotten roughed up in the refuge but would be back to normal soon. Additionally, Crutchie’s cheery demeanor seemed to flicker every so often but if anyone asked about it, he would just laugh it off and assure them that he was doing fine.

Some of the boys hadn’t noticed those signs at all, but it was impossible not to see how Jack’s behavior had changed. He was still just as tactile, but now he hesitated before carefully wrapping his arm around Crutchie’s shoulders, no longer carelessly slinging his arm around him and pulling him in close. Any time Crutchie so much as coughed or looked the slightest bit pensive, Jack would cautiously check on him.

“I ain’t _delicate_ ,” Crutchie laughed after what must have been the hundredth time Jack had asked that day. “And I’m fine.” Jack opened his mouth but before he could ask if Crutchie was sure about that, Crutchie cut him off. “Really, Jack. And you’re gonna owe me a penny every time you ask from now on.”

That shut down Jack’s verbal checking in, but he continued to hover around Crutchie, mentally evaluating his friend at every chance he got. He knew how being stuck in the refuge could mess with someone, even for the few days that Crutchie had been imprisoned there. He saw it in every small flinch, every forced smile, every far off stare.

A couple of nights later when none of these symptoms had let up, he approached Crutchie in his bunk.

“Hey, Crutch,” he said.

“I said I’m fine, Jack,” Crutchie snapped. This was getting exhausting. He sighed and apologized. “Didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“It’s fine. I just wanted to say it’s s’posed to be a nice night,” Jack said with a shrug. “Could go up to the penthouse.”

Crutchie smiled, the first genuine smile Jack had seen on his face in the week since he’d been released from the refuge.

“I’d like that,” he agreed, nodding. 

He grabbed his crutch and together they made their way up the fire escape to the roof. At some points, Crutchie stumbled on the steps and Jack reached out to steady him. Crutchie instinctually pulled away, almost losing his balance.

Once, when he slipped up close to the top of the stairs, Crutchie brushed Jack away from him and grumbled, “I can do it, I’m fine.”

“Crutchie, I-”

“I’m. Fine,” Crutchie insisted.

“I know, I was just-”

“Read my fucking lips, Jack,” Crutchie snarled. “I’m _fine!_ ”

Jack just stared in shock. He had never heard Crutchie swear with such intensity before, especially not at him. Sometimes he would curse under his breath when he lost a card game with Race but he really tried to keep his language clean for any of the younger boys who might be around.

He muttered an apology and breezed ahead of Jack, not wanting to discuss the outburst, until they reached the ladder that led to the penthouse. He grumbled as he waited for Jack. If he tried to get up there by himself, he would definitely slip back down. He slammed his fists down on the railing. Sometimes, he hated his leg. Damn his leg. No. No, _fuck_ his leg!

“Whoa, whoa,” Jack called out, feeling the vibrations beneath his hand. “Hey, what’s-”

“I. Am. Fine.”

Jack was silent for a long moment before asking, “You telling me that or you?”

When Crutchie didn’t respond, Jack nodded. He’d been there. He murmured an encouragement and started to climb the ladder. He reached the top and leaned over the edge, holding his hands out to help his friend up. Crutchie reluctantly accepted the help.

Once they were sitting on the rooftop together, Crutchie thought everything would feel right again, back to normal. Instead, he couldn’t even appreciate how peaceful the night was or how many stars they could actually see because he was too busy being angry about everything.

“We don’t gotta talk about it,” Jack assured, wrapping his arm around Crutchie and bringing him into a light hug. “Just know that if you ever want to, I get it.”

Even though Crutchie leaned into the hug and rested his face against Jack’s shoulder, he shook his head. Sure, Jack had been in and out of the refuge for years, but he _didn’t_ get what it had been like for him.

“You can’t just keep saying you’re fine. Even Mush saw you’re not,” Jack informed. Crutchie sighed. He had tried not to worry anybody. He didn’t want them all worried about him when they had to take care of themselves.

After a long silence, he noted, just above a whisper, “They’s mean in there.”

Jack nodded with a sympathetic smile. He had wanted to laugh at that understatement of the year but he didn’t want his friend to think he was laughing at him. Honestly, he was just glad that Crutchie was finally acknowledging that he wasn’t fine.

“Yeah, yeah they are,” Jack agreed, gently rubbing Crutchie’s back.

He sat and listened as Crutchie unfolded his experiences, hesitantly at first and then all at once. He listened to Crutchie recount how his leg made him an easy target for any unrestrained frustration and how his placement on a top bunk and his frequently-stolen crutch rendered him helpless to the attacks. Jack just held him close and murmured soft apologies for ever letting him get taken there, gentle reminders that the godawful place had been shut down for good, and genuine promises of the land out west where he was going to bring Crutchie.

“I can’t wait, Jack,” Crutchie mumbled against Jack’s shoulder, nuzzling against it.

“Me neither, Crutch,” Jack nodded, looking up at the sky. On a night this clear, they could almost pretend they were there. “Me neither.”


End file.
